


Ashes

by fangirlingtodeath513



Series: Season 13 Codas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13x01 coda, Grieving Dean, M/M, dean hates jack, mentions of Destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 18:23:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12348108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlingtodeath513/pseuds/fangirlingtodeath513
Summary: The only word making it’s way through Dean’s mind right now is no. All he can do is sway on his knees and stare down as Castiel’s life- at Castiel. Despite everything, there’s an odd look of peace on the angel’s face. He swallows, his throat getting tighter by the second. He takes a deep breath through his nose, balling his fists at his sides. He feels like the entire world’s been ripped out from under him.





	Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is a coda for episode 13x01 Lost and Found. It does mention Castiel's death and the aftermath from the season 12 finale, so if that's not something you're interested in reading, this coda definitely isn't for you.
> 
> I'm super proud of this one, so I hope you guys enjoy it!!

The only word making it’s way through Dean’s mind right now is _no_. All he can do is sway on his knees and stare down as Castiel’s life- at Castiel. Despite everything, there’s an odd look of peace on the angel’s face. He swallows, his throat getting tighter by the second. He takes a deep breath through his nose, balling his fists at his sides. He feels like the entire world’s been ripped out from under him.

 

He feels like he’s drowning.

 

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that. He knows Sam is in the house, most likely with the literal spawn of Satan, but not a fiber of Dean’s being is allowing him to care at the moment. All he can see is the light _literally_ leaving Castiel’s eyes. He blinks away the image, swallowing again and letting out a slow breath. He looks around slowly, his mind wandering back to the nephilim.

 

His arm reaches for his gun of it’s own accord. Before he realizes it, he’s walking back into the house, taking the stairs two at a time and aiming his gun at Jack. He manages a shot before Jack freaks out and launches both him and Sam, before scurrying off.

 

Dean’s not sure how long it is before they both come to on the floor of Kelly’s bedroom. There’s light trickling in through the windows, so it’s been long enough for the sun to rise. He sits up and spots Sam coming to against the other wall, scrubbing a hand over his own face. He pushes himself to his feet, shaking off the creepy dream and grabbing his gun off the floor, tucking it into the back of his jeans.

 

“Dean. Dean! What the hell was that about?” Dean ignores him, pushing past him and out of the bedroom, letting his feet carry him downstairs and back outside. He swallows past the lump in his throat, letting out a soft sigh and kneeling next to Castiel’s… next to Cas. Slowly, he slides an arm under the angel’s knees and shoulders, biting back a shaky breath and standing carefully. He idly thinks that Castiel is much heavier than he looks.

 

Sam is standing in the doorway of the house, watching him. Dean knows, he can feel the eyes glaring holes in his back. He takes a slow, deep breath, turning and walking back to the house. Sam keeps his mouth shut and moves out of the way, thankfully. He carries the angel to the dining room, laying him on the table gently. Sam hands him a tablecloth, which Dean promptly uses to cover the… to cover Castiel. He stands there for a moment, staring at his best friend laying on the table.

 

With a deep breath and a clenched jaw, he turns to face Sam.

 

 *           *           *

 

Chuck doesn’t answer. Dean’s not entirely sure he _expected_ him to answer. He’d brought Cas back before, but he’d never been this… it had never been like this before. The pain in his knuckles distracted him somewhat, and the drunk lady draping herself all over the Impala _certainly_ distracts him. And then Sam’s found Jack and it’s back to work. There’s always work. Dean feels like his world has been ripped out from under him and stomped on and they have to worry about Lucifer’s fucking kid. The work never ends.

 

They find Jack at a police station, and everything goes to shit pretty quickly (though that’s normal for them, if Dean’s being honest with himself). They come out on top though, and for once it seems like everyone’s going to be okay.

 

*           *           *

 

Sam has the audacity to ask him if he’s _sure_ . Like he hasn’t spent the past nearly twenty four hours going over this scenario in his mind. Like he hasn’t _agonized_ over every little detail and every option they had. Like he hadn’t even given it any thought at all. He doesn’t know whether to be insulted or heartbroken, or shove everything as far down as he can and deal with it at a later time. Being Dean Winchester, he obviously picks the later. He grabs an axe from the trunk of the Impala and sets out to make the pyre they’ll inevitably need. He vaguely notices Sam and Jack join him, Sam helping to chop wood and Jack arranging it into a funeral pyre.

 

Sam and Jack are the first ones to go inside. Jack mumbles something about seeing his mother, and Sam sweeps the monster into the house like he’s a lost puppy Sam’s looking after. Dean can’t help but roll his eyes, putting the last few pieces of wood on the pyre and staring at it for a moment before wandering inside. His legs carry him back to the dining room, the lump growing in his throat again. He walks around the table slowly, keeping his eyes on the floor until he reaches the other side of the table. His eyes inevitably flicker to the angel on the table. He pulls the tablecloth off Cas’s face, swallowing past the tightness in his throat. He wants to do something, to press a kiss to his forehead or beg him to come back, but he doesn’t. He’s so _tired_ , down to his bones. So instead, he pulls the tablecloth back over his face and grabs the curtains off the nearby window. He wraps one of them around Cas’s ankles and one across his middle to keep the tablecloth in place. Sam and Jack take care of Kelly’s body, so Dean is left to (once again) carry the body of his best friend, his… his everything out of the funeral pyre. He does, because Cas deserves this. Cas has _earned_ this. He lays the angel’s body on the pyre, resting a hand on his forehead for a moment before stepping back and grabbing the canister of gasoline. He douses Cas, Kelly, and the wood they’re laying on and steps back while Sam says some bullshit to Satan’s kid about Death.

 

This is it. Dean knows it. This is his goodbye. The Cas he knew has been gone since Lucifer pierced his chest with an angel blade, and now he was saying goodbye to the only remaining thing he had left. With tight lips and a lump in his throat, he flicks his lighter open and lights it, saying a soft goodbye to the angel.

 

Sam and Jack step away after fifteen minutes. Dean absently hands Sam the keys to the Impala, staying rooted in his spot. Sam gives him a concerned look, one that makes his skin crawl, but he just shakes his head.

 

“Go. I’m not ready yet. Besides, someone’s gotta bring his car back.” The sheer depth of pity in Sam’s eyes makes him want to puke, but he suppresses the urge and keeps his eyes on the flames in front of him. He hears Sam and Jack’s footsteps retreating after a moment, and with a slam of two door and the rumble of an engine, he’s alone.

 

He stays rooted to the same spot until the fire burns itself out. And that’s it. The only thing left of his best friend, of his entire _world,_ is laying right there on the ground in front of him. A pile of smoldering ashes. He clears their things out of the house and ensures there’s no evidence of their visit, aside from the pile of ashes and the scorched wing marks in the back yard. He fishes the keys to Cas’s truck out of his pocket, unlocking the driver’s door and climbing behind the wheel. He swallows past the tightness in his throat, starting the car and looking around. He spots the edge of something sticking out of the console between the driver’s and passenger’s seats, and he grabs it with shaking fingers. He knows what it is. He knew before he even reached for it. It makes his heart thump in his chest and the lump in his throat get bigger.

 

He wonders if Castiel ever listened to it. The truck doesn’t have a tape deck, so he doubts it. He tucks the tape into the pocket of his jacket above his heart, patting it gently before he pulls Castiel’s truck onto the road. His eyes wander to the rearview mirror, watching the small house disappear into the distance.

 

“Goodbye, Cas.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [here(:](https://fangirlingtodeath513.tumblr.com/)
> 
> PLEASE DO NOT POST MY WORKS ANYWHERE BUT HERE OR TUMBLR WITHOUT MY EXPRESS PERMISSION.


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